


Aunt Knows Best

by HiddenSt0rms



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, Spider-Man (Tom Holland Movies)
Genre: Angst, Bonding, F/M, Fever, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Light Angst, Peter Parker Needs a Hug, Peter Parker Whump, Peter Parker is a Mess, Peter is a Little Shit, Protective May Parker (Spider-Man), Sick Peter Parker, Sickfic, Worried May Parker (Spider-Man)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-27
Updated: 2019-12-27
Packaged: 2021-02-24 15:56:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,552
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21980554
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HiddenSt0rms/pseuds/HiddenSt0rms
Summary: “But let me get this straight: Instead of listening to both me and your body, you decided to sneak out when you were already sick. Do you have any idea how dangerous that could’ve been? What if something had gone wrong and I didn’t know where you were? And in case you’ve forgotten, we’re in a city. I can’t even imagine all the other people you’ve probably gotten sick.”Peter is a little shit that won’t listen to his aunt, or body for that matter, and May would rip her hair out if it weren’t for MJ.
Relationships: May Parker (Spider-Man) & Peter Parker, Michelle Jones & May Parker (Spider-Man), Michelle Jones/Peter Parker
Comments: 2
Kudos: 95





	Aunt Knows Best

**Author's Note:**

> Akin to Tangled’s ‘Mother Knows Best.’

“You’re seriously not gonna let me go out? Are you serious right now? We’ve had these plans for like two weeks, and literally everyone else is out doing something this weekend and – “

Fed up, May turned around and held a finger up to quiet her nephew. “Peter Parker,” Her words were sharp and firm. “You’re sick. You’re staying home and that’s final.”

Peter knew it was childish to whine when he wasn’t getting his way, but _he wasn’t getting his way!_ “But it’s just a sore throat! It could be allergies, you never know.”

May gave an exasperated sigh. She knew her nephew could be a stubborn little shit, but this was something else. As fine as he insisted he was, that didn’t take away from how he’d downed an entire jumbo bag of cough drops in the past 24 hours. Sure, artificial cherry is good, and who hasn’t had a cough drop just for the taste, but an _entire jumbo_ bag...what more evidence could a _nurse_ need? “Pete, we're in New York City.” 

“So? That doesn’t mean – “

“What part of ‘that’s final’ do you not get?” Now May was giving Peter that same look she always had when she was about to snap, and he shrank away, distantly feeling guilty.

“Sorry.”

“It’s fine, I love you,” May kissed Peter on the forehead, despite his grimaces, and pursed her lips in thought. “Hm, you feel a little warm. Why don’t you go on up to bed and I’ll bring you some medicine?”

It was a suggestion phrased as a question, Peter knew, but anything to get his aunt off his back. “Fine.” He huffed and made his way down the hall, where May came in shortly with some water and modified fever reducers from Bruce.

“Take these,” She instructed, and Peter did as told. “I want you to drink the rest of that before I get back.”

Excitement flickered in Peter’s eyes at those last two words. He sat up and tried as casually as possible to ask, “Get back?”

“You forgot? I’m going out for my coworker’s birthday. I should be back by eleven, but if you need anything, call me and I’ll come right back here.”

Peter fought away the edges of a smile. Finally, something lucky and well-timed was happening. “Okay.”

“Leave this bed only for the bathroom, water refills, and the soup sitting in the microwave,” May tucked Peter in tighter. “Get some rest, I love you.”

“I will. Love you too.”

“I mean it, Peter. Don’t even think about leaving that bed.” She warned on her way out.

Peter waited a few minutes after the front door closed (he was too smart to fall for the ‘I forgot something’ trick) before grabbing his phone to send a text.

* * *

MJ stopped mid-sentence, her expression switching gears. This was at least the tenth time Peter cleared his throat since they’d gotten in the ticket line and if they hadn’t been dating, any other person would’ve huffed in annoyance. “Alright Peter, be honest. Does your throat hurt?”

Very taken aback by this sudden accusation, Peter stumbled for an excuse. “Um, well, you see - “

“Answer the question.”

Peter forced a laugh, cursing internally when it made his throat hurt even more. “Is this a date or an interrogation?”

“I don’t know, you tell me.”

MJ maintained a firm but not unfriendly gaze, a look that indicated she meant business. He would never lie to a face like that. Not that he could, anyway. When MJ meant business...

“I’m fine, my throat’s just a little scratchy, that’s all,” An understatement, if one thing’s for sure. It felt like a burning rod was stabbing the back of his throat and twisting it in circles. And just when he’d start being able to ignore it all, he’d swallow, spiraling the pain all over again. “But I feel fine. Mostly, anyway.”

Much to Peter’s surprise, MJ’s expression immediately softened, at least as much as she would allow. “If you’re sick, we could’ve rescheduled. I’m not heartless, you know.”

“Yeah, but this is our one month, you know?”

“Oh my God, you’re _so_ right. That _totally_ changes everything.”

Peter rolled his eyes at her sarcasm, but not without a smile and grabbing her hand. “I think you’re forgetting I’m you-know-who. This is nothing.”

MJ wasn’t convinced; she knew Peter was stubborn and all, but if Spiderman himself insisted he was okay...she simply smiled and squeezed his hand back. They transitioned back to their original conversation, much to Peter’s relief, who couldn’t wait to be seated. His legs were really starting to ache from the standing, and the rest of his body for that matter.

* * *

“You want the rest of my popcorn?” Peter whispered. He’d only been able to down about half the bag before his stomach seemed to close off. He didn’t want to be wasteful, but he also didn’t want to have to end up using the bag for something else.

“What?” MJ was in shock. “Don’t you have a crazy fast metabolism?”

“Well, yeah, but I ate before I came.”

Concern crossed MJ’s expression, and she reached a hand up towards Peter’s forehead, but he simply dodged it, resting his head on her shoulder and nestling closer with a smile.

She sighed in both irritation and amusement. “Your reflexes are annoying sometimes, you know that?” 

“But cool, right?”

“Sure. By the way, your plan didn’t work, because I can still tell you feel warm.”

“Shh, the movie’s starting.” 

MJ would've pressed on, but he looked so happy right where he was. She figured she'd give him one last chance and turned her attention to the screen ahead.

Even with MJ off his back, a new issue arose for Peter to worry about. The bright flashes aggravated the headache blooming from behind his eyes, and it was really beginning to hurt. He looked up and saw that MJ’s eyes were straight ahead, and it was dark, so what harm would closing his eyes be? He’d just be resting his eyes for a minute.

* * *

Something ice cold was shaking Peter out of his unplanned nap. He stirred and looked up groggily to see MJ looking down, confused. The movie was still playing, but he had no idea how much time had passed or what was happening. So much for forking over fifteen dollars for his ticket.

“You were asleep.” She mouthed, something new crossing her gaze at him.

Peter opened his mouth to speak, but even that action caused his entire throat and neck to ache in pain. He winced, not even having the energy to dodge this time when MJ laid a hand on his forehead. 

“You’re a little shit, you know that?” MJ whispered, promptly flipping off the person behind them rudely telling her to ‘hush.’ With an exasperated sigh, MJ gathered their belongings and wrapped an arm around Peter to help him up, this time flashing that same rude person a smile at blocking their view for a few seconds.

Peter finally woke up all the way when he was blinded by the hallway light coming out of the theatre. He would’ve stumbled to the ground, but that same firm arm guided him to the nearest bench. 

“How bad do you feel?” MJ asked, her voice uncharacteristically gentle.

“ _Really_ bad.” Peter rasped, thumbing at his eyes to rid them of the fuzzy colors dancing around on his vision. He honestly would’ve preferred to just stay in the theatre where it was dark. 

“I can call May - “

“No,” Peter cut her off. “You can’t.”

“Why not?”

“...she’ll kill me.” Peter buried his head into his hands.

“And just why would your aunt murder her own nephew?”

“I kinda maybe snuck out…”

MJ gently nudged Peter’s head to get him to look up. “And why did you do that?”

“Apparently a sore throat was enough to stay home in her book. We all have our disagreements, right?” Peter managed to force a light laugh.

MJ was far from amused, only helping Peter back to his feet and towards the exit. “Let’s just get you home, okay?”

* * *

A subway ride and a few blocks walked later, MJ saw Peter off into his apartment, not leaving until she was sure he was safe inside his apartment. He let a curse slip out at the light blinding him upon walking in, and an even stronger one slipped out when he saw May sitting at the table. She was typing something into her phone, but when she saw Peter walk in, her worried expression faded into relief, then anger.

“Peter Benjamin Parker.”

Middle name...Peter knew he was in for it deep. “What are you - “ He stopped talking when his throat lit on fire, but it was if May could read his mind.

“Something came up and it got cancelled. You look way worse,” May noted, coming over to help with sit on the couch. “I take it you’re feeling worse as well?”

Peter solemnly nodded. 

“Now where did you run off to?” She started, laying a hand to his forehead and feeling his lymph nodes.

“Movies with MJ,” Peter looked up urgently. “But please don’t be mad at her, she didn’t know either. She helped me get home. _Please_ don’t be mad at her.”

“How could I be?” May reassured. “But let me get this straight: Instead of listening to both me and your body, you decided to sneak out when you were already sick. Do you have any idea how dangerous that could’ve been? What if something had gone wrong and I didn’t know where you were? And in case you’ve forgotten, we’re in a city. I can’t even imagine all the other people you’ve probably gotten sick.”

Peter acknowledged her with a slow blink, the agitated tone drilling daggers into his head. How he felt was punishment enough, he really didn’t need a lecture to top it all off. “Sorry.”

“Is that all you have to say for yourself?”

Peter shrugged.

“Or does your throat hurt that bad?”

Peter barely nodded, but May could tell it was a ‘yes.’ She turned on her phone flashlight and instructed Peter to open wide. There was no doubt what he had when she saw the white bumps over a red and inflamed throat. “Get your stuff. I’m taking you to Medbay at Stark Tower.”

“Why?”

“You have strep, I’m sure of it. I doubt they’ll have anything strong enough for you at ‘normal people’ Urgent Care.”

Peter stood up a bit too quickly, and he would’ve fallen over if it weren’t for his aunt. 

_All this for a date..._

* * *

It should be a law that one cannot get sick in the summer. Not when there’s no school to miss, only fun stuff. But today ended up being a sick day for Peter, summer or not. He was shivering in a mountain of blankets with the gross taste of artificial cherry coating his throat. While he was thankful to have spider-power-friendly antibiotics pumping through his system, they haven’t fully kicked in yet, leaving him still feeling terrible.

There was a knock at the door, and Peter buried himself further under the covers, groaning weakly. He may be sick, but he was even sicker of May’s coddling and her checking on him every twenty minutes. “I’m _fine._ Leave me alone. ” 

“Okay. I’ll leave, then.”

The voice on the other side definitely wasn’t from May. The door opened and in walked MJ (she was only pretending to be waiting for a ‘come in’) with a bag in one hand and a bowl in another.

“MJ?” Peter sat up a little, cheeks flushing in embarrassment at his current situation. He was sure he was sporting some very nice bedhead (and he hoped to _God_ that she wouldn’t notice the spider pajama pants he had on). They’d been a gift from Tony, so he couldn’t just _not_ wear them (plus they were soft!).

“I broke in.” MJ said, her voice deadpan. 

“What?”

“Yeah, I climbed up the side of the building to get to the living room window. By the way, you need a new living room window.”

“You did _what??_ ” Peter rubbed his panicked eyes groggily, the sarcasm clearly going over his head.

“Dude, I’m just kidding. Your aunt let me in. You must be sicker than I thought.” MJ sat on his bed and put what she brought on the bedside table.

“I’m okay.”

“Oh, so you don’t want the ice cream, then?”

Peter hadn’t even noticed the takeout bowl sitting on his bedside table. It looked to be chocolate and vanilla swirled with no hard sprinkles to worry about chewing.

MJ gestured to the pharmacy bag. “I also brought some cough drops, soup, and Gatorade. I picked the red flavor to match your suit. I figured that was pretty important. Oh, and a throat spray thing. The guy at the pharmacy said it would work, and who am I to doubt the man selling drugs for a living?”

Peter couldn’t believe it. “Aw…I’ll pay you back.”

“For what? Being a good girlfriend?”

Peter figured that was fair and changed his focus to the ice cream. It was heavenly going down his throat. 

As Peter worked on the ice cream, MJ gave a recap of what he’d missed during the movie. She’d started listing bootleg sites so they could finish it without giving up their entire paychecks again, but it was obvious Peter was fighting to stay awake, and inevitably losing the battle.

She’d just have to send him the link later. 

“I’ll see you later. Feel better, Pete.” She said, squeezing his hand.

“Where’re you going?” His eyes barely opened when he felt her weight leaving the mattress. 

“Home. You’re falling asleep on me.”

“Oh, sorry. What were you saying?” 

MJ simply kissed him on the forehead and wrapped the blankets up tighter. “Feel better, Peter.” She gathered her stuff and had just one more thing to do before heading out.

“Oh, and one more thing,”

“What’s that?”

She went over and playfully thumped him on the forehead. “Listen to your aunt next time.”

But then on her way out, she was stopped by May.

“Hey, I just wanted to thank you for getting Peter home safely last night.”

“It was no problem.” MJ said honestly. It truly wasn’t. She flashed a smile and was just about to open the door when May’s voice stopped her again.

“Peter can be a little shit,” May continued. “But I think he really, really likes you. He really does. And I can tell you’re good for him. So thank you. Especially ever since Tony died. It was so hard to watch him suffer through another loss, and I’d say you’re giving his life direction again.”

MJ was completely taken aback by a compliment of such magnitude. She genuinely didn’t think what she’d done was such a big deal; it was truly just instinct to her. But to hear that May thought so highly of her was something else, something new she couldn’t remember the last time she’d felt, if ever. MJ had no idea how to even begin to thank May, if she even could. She'd just have to settle for a simple sentence and brighter smile:

“Thank you, Mrs. Parker.”

**Author's Note:**

> This was originally supposed to be a quick 3-scene for Whumptober. Then it turned into a whole novel and was like pulling teeth to write. I think I can honestly say I wrote a sentence a day of this for two months.


End file.
